He Hated Her
by Precious Pup
Summary: Well what can I say about this. McGee and OFC. Title says it all. McGee struggles to understand how he can be physically attracted to someone he doesn't like as a person.If you've ever wondered about angsty McGee porn here is an example.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

He hated her. And he hated that he hated her. She seemed to consume his thoughts. Timothy McGee didn't hate anyone. He might dislike people on occasion, consider them a bit rude or thoughtless. No one else guessed at what they had done. In fact the rest of the team thought he disliked her, which he did.

But it hadn't stopped him fucking her.

And he even hated that word but there was no better description for the violent joining of bodies. There had been no talk or attempt at love or even kindness. She disliked him, didn't even consider him at all. And he hated her for it.

When they had finished, their bodies still heaving trying to regain their breath she had simply raised an eyebrow, smoothed down her skirt, buttoned up her shirt, wiped her mouth and walked away. He could have screamed his frustration.

She had left him naked wearing nothing but his shoes, his boxers in a puddle around his ankles, his pants and shirt strewn across the room. He was leaning shaking against the wall while she seemed almost untouched by his efforts. He didn't know when he had last felt that vulnerable.

It was the eyes. She had just looked at him, looked through him. She had been mildly curious but she didn't even seem to consider it unusual that he wanted her. It was as if he had been provided purely for her occasional use and no further involvement from her was required.

He could still smell her all over him and wondered how the others could not tell what he had done. They had fucked hard and furious up against the wall in the corner of the tiny fourth corridor unused storeroom. She must be wearing bruises from where he had gripped her so hard, pounding deep into her, frantic with need as she raked her nails up his bare back and she had buried her sharp teeth into the firm flesh at the nape of his neck.

His thoughts raged at him. How could he be attracted to someone he didn't even like? And he was attracted. Just watching her sneer at something on the other side of the room made him hard and his long fingers twitched to feel inside her, hot and wet. He wanted to curl his fingers up and into her and feel her buck and cry beneath him.

He wanted to show her that he was not the pathetic lap dog that she seemed to think he was. That he had value. And yet rather than impress her with his skills as an investigator he was overwhelmed with a need to slap her so hard across the face it bloomed blush and then with her eyes flashing pull her to him and make her scream his name.

But she didn't. She wouldn't.

She was driving him mad. He had already had one shower at work today. Tony had laughingly made a comment about the new girl making him sweat. He had even said that the new girl must be giving him a 'hard time'. Tony had no idea.

He avoided the lab knowing that Abby would take one look at his flushed face and know something was up. The languid feeling he usually associated with the aftermath of having sex with someone he cared about was missing. Perhaps that was why no one could tell. All that would be written on his face was frustration, confusion and anxiety.

Frustration with himself and with her. How dare she treat someone like that? Why was he attracted to someone that treated him like that?

Confusion at how intense his orgasm had been. His knees were still trembling an hour later. He felt like he had buried himself in her, straining and using every inch of himself to give her more to show her what he could do. Why? Why her? Why did he care?

Anxiety swirled around him. How was he supposed to work with her now? Would she say anything? If someone asked him he couldn't even explain it to himself. They couldn't possibly do it again, could they? She didn't even seem like she wanted to. His heart was chilled by the look she gave him as she walked off, silent.

She had come to assist with a case, a temporary placement. She had hit it off with everyone except him. He had tried but she had re buffed his friendly advances, ignored his offer to get her a coffee, and turned her back on him on more than one occasion. It hadn't gone unnoticed but it wasn't affecting the case and besides it was him. Everyone got on with good old McGee sooner or later. It seemed that Gibbs decided to let the team dynamic settle itself.

McGee had felt a quiet anger grow inside him at this unnecessary treatment and he had picked a slow time to speak to her in private. He hoped that asking her to at least be civil to him during work hours would show that he noticed her treatment of him. He hoped that if they could not be friends then at least they could be useful colleagues to each other. He had followed her hoping for a private moment, but they were passed by a person here and a person there and she seemed to lead him further into the building.

An instant later she seemed to have disappeared. Tim had stuck his head into the unused store room, one that was being stripped in readiness for the re modeling and found himself pulled inside.  
She smirked coolly up and him and pushed him against the closed door.  
'Are you following me, McGee?  
He had hesitated, worrying that his answer might make the already rocky relationship worse but she already had her hand on his crotch and was working him through the fabric of his suit.  
His face must have showed his surprise as she leaned into him  
'What don't you like that my sneaky McGee?'

His growing erection would have denied any answer he wanted to give and he stared at her wide eyed, plastered against the door a small groan gathering in the back of his throat.

'Why don't you show me what you're made of, Timothy?'

It was the use of his name that did it. She had rubbed herself against him and had slipped her hand through his fly and was now expertly, firmly stroking his hot flesh now turned soft velvet over hard steel. The whisper of his name in his ear accompanied by the tip of her tongue running over his ear lobe was enough that he thrust into her hand. She had laughed cruelly and working off his belt with her other hand had then slicked her thumb across the newly moist tip of his cock. 

It was then that the slow burning anger that he had felt towards her exploded into a hot serge of emotion resulting in him stepping out of his pants, locking the door and pushing her against the far wall. She had grinned gleefully as he had wrapped his arms around her and shoved her up against the wall. He didn't care if he hurt her he shamefully remembered later. He had never had sex angry before. And she seemed to love it. She was already wet when he felt her hot flesh with his fingers and parted her. She grunted and shut her eyes against looking at him as he thrust deep into her. He was so hard, he ached and he felt like he could have kept her in that position without the use of his hands, simply keeping her impaled on his cock. It had felt like they were already instantly in the middle of a lengthy sex session as they were both so excited, so wild and aching for each other they were thrashing on each other, thrusting wildly, clutching at anything and everything in their quest for more.

And then it was over and she had walked silently away.

And he hated her for it.

Well so what do you think of that? Bit of a different style for me so curious to know. Four chapters in total, two more already written.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

She hated him. She really did. She hated the hesitancy, the politeness, his soft paleness. She hated the way his eyes followed her and worried about why she didn't like him.

But it hadn't stopped her fucking him.

He had surprised her, she had to admit that. She had pulled him into the storeroom to confront him. To get the inevitable 'why don't you like me' conversation over and done with. Why do you have to like the people you work with anyway?

Instead as she leaned into him she had felt the delicious tension between them and decided to tease him instead, to leave him confused.

'Are you following me, McGee?  
He had hesitated, his head tipped on the side doing that annoying searching for exactly the right words that might please her. She already had her hand on his crotch and was stroking him through the fabric of his suit. He was quickly growing harder under her ministration and she smirked to see if he would deny that he wanted her to continue.  
'What don't you like that my sneaky McGee?'

His growing erection would have denied any answer he wanted to give and he stared at her wide eyed, plastered against the door a small groan gathering in the back of his throat.

'Why don't you show me what you're made of, Timothy?'

And he certainly had. Gone was the hesitancy, gone was the polite please and thank you. Gone was the yes Gibbs, no Gibbs, three bags full Gibbs. He hadn't asked permission, he had just taken her and it had excited her no end. He was wild and hard and strong and she had enjoyed every instant. Especially as she hadn't been expecting it.

She watched him from across the bull pen. There he was. NCIS Special Agent Timothy McGee. Gentle so called genius. She knew he wasn't anxious about the case but was thinking about what they had done. How they had fucked. How it had felt to throw away his inhibitions for those too brief moments. What is was like to have a woman claw at his back and arch against him. What it felt like to be standing naked exposed in the storeroom, just waiting for someone to try and come in. She could tell by the way he was hesitating when he was typing, normally so fluid and would look up only to avoid her eyes.

She was back to hating him again. He was such a milk sop. Instead of just enjoying it for what it was, just sex between two adults he was anguishing about it. He was probably going to go off and have a little cry to himself somewhere later. Seriously.

He should be grateful that she had taken the opportunity to show him what the world could be like when you weren't mired in guilt and constant responsibility.

She had worried that he might go and say something to someone. Not that she cared but it would make things a bit awkward. He had permancy in this team and she didn't. He had the relationship with the rest of the team and she was still the newbie. When she had watched him wringing his hands, wiping the sweat from his brow, his eyes darting nervously around she knew she was safe. He would rather chew his own arm off than have everyone know that they had had wild hot sex together.  
At work.  
While on duty.  
Up against a wall.

She smirked at something DiNozzo said. Wouldn't he be surprised if he knew what his little Probie was capable of? Everyone could see that they didn't get on that well, but no one else seemed to particularly care. It was just natural that she wasn't going to hit it off with everyone. Well it seemed that they hit it off in one area very well.

Couldn't he understand there was no white knight, no tall tower to climb, no till death do you part. It was just simply sex. They had fucked. Simple. Done. Move on.

Seriously there was something about that sad little pouty face he pulled that was like nails down a chalk board to her.

Still. Her breath caught as she remembered how the crisp curls of his pubic hair had ground into her wet swollen clit as he had gripped her to him as if his life depended on it. He wasn't a small man and as he had leaned over her, clutching at her spread wide thighs as he thrust relentlessly into her she had felt dominated by him, by a man. She found herself idly wondering if anyone would notice if she climbed astride him now while still on his chair and rode him till she climaxed.

She cursed herself as she realised that she wanted him again. Not this McGee. The polite hateful one. No she wanted the other one. Could she do it again? Get him angry enough that he forgot who he was?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

He hated her. He really did.

If he thought that having sex with her would make her somehow nice to him he was wrong. It had been two days and she was if anything worse. The little digs, the snide remarks, ignoring him completely. It had got so bad that even Tony had pulled her aside and asked her to knock it off, that he was good guy and she should just give him a chance. All she had done was make sure that she wasn't so obvious around Tony.

But what was worse was the touching. She seemed to touch and stroke him constantly and it was driving him insane. She would lean over his shoulder to look at the work he was doing and brush her breasts against him, she would touch his hands when she passed him something, and she even stroked his butt when they were all crammed in the elevator yesterday. He was sure it was her. It must have been but why? Why was she doing it? No one else seemed to see it and that made it worse. It was like he was imagining things or going mad.

Just yesterday they had been alone in the back of the truck on the way to a crime scene. She had been facing him, but not looking at him. Ignoring him. But her knees were far too wide apart to be appropriate, even for the ordinary black pants she was wearing. He could run his eyes all the way up her inner thighs and right to her exposed crotch. Her back was arched back a bit thrusting her breasts out through her thin shirt, her nipples erect. Taunting him. He was over come with the need to sink to his knees and bury himself in her, until she cried out, writhing and gasping. Instead he had to close his eyes, slow down his breathing and think of the slaughtered ensign they were on their way to view. Even that image had taken a while to take effect and he was sure he could feel her hot eyes on him, watching.

Why???

He couldn't stop thinking about her. She was like a puzzle he needed to understand. He had had to jerk off twice during the night just to relieve the pressure. There was pleasure involved obviously but it was more about trying to give himself the space to think. He hadn't had to do that since he was a teenager and it made it worse that she seemed to have some sort of hold over him even out of work. He needed to think about it logically. To try and understand what it was between them but every time he thought about her he couldn't help but think about the sex.

About the hot tight feel of her. About what he had done. About how she must be wearing bruises still from how he had gripped her.

Damn he could feel himself hardening again. Here at work. He sighed. He wondered if he would be reduced to a quick, lip biting, silent wank in the men's toilets.

There had been no kissing. It had surprised him when he realized that. There had always been kissing before this. A kiss at the door, hot kisses on a couch, deep wet sloppy kisses in bed, tiny teasing kisses running down a willing body, a kiss good morning. Different sorts of kisses but always kisses. Not this time. Perhaps it was too intimate? Maybe that was the answer. He needed her to kiss him? He needed her to want to kiss him? Was a kiss more intimate than fucking? Than being inside someone?

He groaned silently to himself and wanted to bang his head against his desk. He headed to the elevator needing to get out, to get some fresh air. He stood there lost in his own thoughts when the doors opened to admit two women who stepped inside to join him.

Oh Fuck.

She didn't even look at him as she stood beside him, the other woman slightly behind and to the right of her. The doors opened again on the next floor and the other woman stepped forward to exit and she stepped in front of him to let her out. Completely innocent.

She stepped further back so she was right in front of him and then leaned forward to push the doors close button. Her buttocks brushed his crotch and the sight of her firm rear bent over in front of him after his thoughts of her all morning was almost more than he could bare.

He stifled a small groan as she rubbed against him. No mistaking that. Damn he was already hard, straining against his suit pants. She turned, that hated smirk on her face. She dropped her eyes to take in his plight.

'So what are you going to do about it, Timothy?'

How dare she taunt him? He wasn't a child. All rational thought was stamped on as lust and anger in equal measure surged through him.

He leaned over her shoulder in an instant catching the scent of her hair, of her skin and flipped the emergency switch. She had already turned away from him and was leaning arms up against where the walls met in the corner of the elevator.

He came up tight behind her, both hands ripping free his belt, releasing him from his pants. They fell to the floor along with his boxers in a rattle of belt buckle, keys and fabric. She was standing legs spread, waiting for him as he grabbed her short tight fitted red skirt and roughly hauled it up over her waist.

She wasn't wearing any underwear. Damn her. It was if she knew it was going to come to this. He reached around and felt her sensitive lips, stroking her then pushing further in with his fingers. She was already wet. Sopping. Of course she was.

With a groan he pushed his rigid cock inside her. He strained, going deep on his first thrust. He was going to make her come first, if it was the last thing he did. He was going to make her cry out.

Oh Fuck! …. Oh God! …… She felt so good! So hot and wet and tight around him. His busy mind was suddenly blank except for the primitive need to thrust into her.

YES! Oh God it was worth the wait. Two days of thinking about him constantly. Two days of dropped touches, new inventive put downs, so called casual contact as she rubbed herself against him and watched him furrow his brow in confusion at her. She tightened around him and heard him groan.

He needed to slow down, to re gain control or she would win again. He could already feel the approaching tremors as he gripped her hips, plunging again and again into her. His body and his mind battled for control. He wanted her to be the one that came first. She would not leave him naked and ashamed his time.

This wasn't Sex this was War!

He leaned over covering her back, slipping the fingers of his left hand rhythmically against her wet clit while still stroking firmly inside her. He could feel her arch, thrusting back into him looking for more penetration. He reached up with his other hand and slipped it under her shirt and started kneading her tight lace encased breast with his right hand.

Oh Fuck! What was he doing? He was all over her. It felt like there wasn't anything left of her that couldn't feel his touch.

Oh please! Oh God more! Yes! Oh deeper! She wanted it all and her mind screamed out but she gritted her teeth against crying out. No she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Only tiny whimpers escaped her as she clenched everything and braced herself more firmly against the wall.

Oh Christ…….. Oh God……. Oh no please don't stop………

He looked down and he was lost. The sight of his hard wet slicked cock disappearing into her. Her long shapely tanned legs with their glossy high black heels spread wide with his own feet braced in between sent a jolt of lust through him, like he had never felt before. It was like he was watching himself in his own private porno flick. He didn't think he could get any harder but he had to get deeper, feel more of her.

He removed his hands from torturing her and pushed against her back, hard. She obeyed without question, dropped lower and braced her head against her arms to stop her head slamming into the walls. She gripped the cold metal hand rails with tight fists as he reared back, dug his hands into the hot flesh of her hips and surged deep into her.

Her head shot up with a wordless cry and she arched and thrust back at him.

Oh Christ! He was so deep inside her he felt like he was coming out her throat.

Oh Fuck! Again! Again! More Please God more!!

He hadn't thought he could get any further inside her but this position left her so open. And he was moving so fast, going so deep, pulling her hard onto him. He heard her strangled whimpers and exalted.

In that instant he didn't care who came first. He was entirely selfish and just wanted to revel in the glory of the sensations that swept over him.

Suddenly they were both there. They slammed into each other, shuddering, every muscle tense, straining. Their dual orgasm dragged it out for each of them as they gripped and shuddered. Tim clenched his teeth and threw back his head, eyes shut tight, still buried deep with her. He could feel her inner muscles convulsing around him and he thought he might just die from the sensation.

Suddenly it was over and he took a deep desperate breath. He sagged against her for an instant before withdrawing, spent. He knew this time what was coming. Still shaking he turned away from her, pulled up his pants, tucking himself still wet into his boxers. When he turned back she had straightened and pulled her skirt down. With a single quick look at him to see he was dressed she flipped the emergency switch and the elevator jumped into life.

She was still breathing deeply when she reached into her handbag, abandoned in the corner and sprayed a single squirt of perfume onto her wrist, helping to mask the smell of their joining.

The doors opened on the next floor and Tim's heart hammered. There seemed to be no one waiting for it. No one lifted an enquiring eyebrow or wondered at their rumpled clothing. Tim realized that although it had felt like eons if anyone had been waiting for the lift the whole deed had been done in minutes. Minutes that felt like hours. Like a lifetime.

Tim was pleased to see as she stepped out, her knees shook and she held the door for an instant to steady herself. Then without turning back she walked away.

Tim stood there uncertain until the elevator decided his fate and shut its doors. Tim pushed a button now wanting only to get away. To get away from her. To get away from here. From what he had done – again.

The doors opened again onto another deserted floor. Autopsy. No one came down here unless they had too.

He stepped out and held the doors open for a moment to allow the air to clear further for the next unsuspecting guest.

Then he walked to the stairwell and shakily started to climb. When he reached the first landing he swung around and sat on the top stair, leaning his flushed cheek against the cool metal handrail. The stairwell was cool, dim and quiet. He sat there for a while just trying to process what had happened. He was hot, sweaty, sticky, still trembling and so confused. The front of his shirt now safely tucked away was still wet from her juices. He could smell her everywhere, all over him. He was going to need to sneak in another shower during the day. He couldn't continue through the afternoon like this. And he would have to explain it away somehow. Tony would notice. He always noticed.

He sighed heavily and rubbed his temples in his hands. What was he doing?

He thought he had in some ways won their little battle. He had showed her he was a man that wasn't to be toyed with. He had controlled her, controlled what she felt.

And yet the more he thought about it the more he seemed to have simply played into her hands.

He sat in the cool darkness and hated her.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

He Hated her.

No he didn't. He was just having some initial trouble analyzing his feelings of tremendous animosity and simultaneous overwhelming lust towards her.

Ok yes he did hate her but he was trying not to.

He had done what he always did when confronted with a complex problem. He had decided on a plan. He had had to wait until the case was over so he some time to consider something other than blood splatter analysis and false bank accounts. This had meant two more days of tense avoidance, confusion and distraction as he tried to concentrate what he could on the case and ensure he was never left alone with her- anywhere.

He had then had to fend off Tony's cheerful and insistent invite to an after work drink to celebrate. That had been a definite. The thought of them all sitting together at a bar idly chatting pretending that nothing had happened while all the time the giant pink elephant that had McGee Had Sex With Her written in giant gold lettering on it wandered around the room was almost more than he could bare.

Also the thought of what he had done twice, stone cold sober had added momentum to his decision to stay as far away from the rest of them, from HER as possible. What would he be capable of doing with a few drinks inside him?

He could imagine her leaning over him simply reaching for her drink while showing her full cleavage to him and trailing her other hand unseen over his crotch. He would close his eyes against the now familiar smell of her as she managed to stand close to him, apparently uncaring, her skirt tight, feet slightly too far apart.

Unbidden came the thought of her hot and wet around him. Of him fucking her roughly, uncaring of watchful eyes up against the rough brick wall in the dark dirty alley outside the club. He could see her now with her back arched, hands clawing at him grabbing his firm arse drawing him further inside her, her thighs straining, spread wide, her gasping little cry's as she shut her eyes against watching his shuddering desperate release.

Or worse, noisily fiercely banging away inside a desolate cubicle in the men's toilets

over…..

come ….

with ……

sheer……

desperate……

abandon!!…………………..

…………until Tony came in. And his life at NCIS would come to an end as he knew it.

Tim shuddered as he considered the looks and more that he would receive and resolved again to sort this problem of his out.

And it was a problem. It was affecting his work, consuming his thoughts. He was having trouble sleeping and he knew that Gibbs had started watching him a little more closely. He was sure Gibbs had put it down to being effected by the case they were working on a bit more then usual but that would last only so long before he would be called into 'his office' for a talk.

So here he was stripped naked, shivering in his shower. The water was cold. So cold it felt like a thousand little needles dancing across his skin. His pale skin was covered in goose pimples. He had already jerked off before climbing in and turning on the water. It hadn't even been pleasurable this time, merely a task on his list. An attempt to keep his urges under control. He leaned his arms up onto the cool tiles and washed his face in the spray, rinsing the clean water through his mouth before spitting it out. He wondered if the dancing monkeys on his shower curtain were laughing at him, mocking him for his anxieties.

He had tried to consider everything and had even triple locked the door and stuck a chair in front of it in case DiNozzo decided to pay one of his late night unannounced visits.

So now he had the time. He now had the capacity to think. She was no where around. She was he believed probably with the rest of the team. He wondered if she would be relieved or disappointed that he wasn't there having a drink with the rest of them.

That's was the crux of the problem there wasn't it? He just didn't really know what she was thinking. He was supposed to be this genius but when it came down to people he still had so much to learn. He had learnt a lot in the last few years, about people, about why they did terrible things but this was something new.

She didn't like him. That he thought he had clear. Ok no Tim look at the facts. Treat this like it is a case. He scolded himself. She didn't like you at the beginning. That you do know. She didn't know you would follow her down that hallway at that time so she hadn't/couldn't have planned the first time they had….

Don't think about it!

Ok so the first time was what? Opportunity? He ran back the little bit of conversation they had had. She had been teasing him he realized suddenly and then _he_ had been the one to respond. He felt a little shocked as he carried it through. He could have simply said no. Or he could have left the store room, a little embarrassed but still.

She had watched his eyes as she had felt him up, rubbing his hardening cock through the fabric of this trousers. There was never any question of it being …. forced upon him. He had definitely responded to her. She had essentially asked him the question 'Why don't you show me what you're made of, Timothy?' Again she had left it up to him as to what he would do about it. He shuddered under the water as he considered how quickly he had turned and locked the door behind him before…..

Don't think about it!

Ok so interesting. This was as much about him as it was about her. It took two to tango so to speak. Tim felt a small measure of relief at this revelation. If he could stop responding to her so …. so.. emotionally? Was that it? He was responding to her purely on an emotional level rather than on a professional level. First it was through anger and then lust? So rather than hating her it was more an ….. overload of emotions he was struggling to process about her. That would explain some of the confusion that swirled around his thoughts of her.

Tim hopefully followed this thought through. Some of it was definitely her though. He allowed himself to think of the second time they had come together, in the elevator. She had, he recognized been ready for him. She again had not forced it on him. In fact she had taken less action than the first time around. She had really just hinted and he could have easily stepped away or asked her to stop. He hadn't.

She had turned and waited for him. She had been wet and ready for him. She had entered the elevator and had been what? Hoping she could provoke him?

If he had stepped away from her in the elevator what could she have done? Would it be worse than what was going on with him right now? The anxiety, the teasing, the torment he realized he was putting himself though?

Ok so first thing if this happens again, take a deep breath, try and handle the emotional overload and simply step away. Tim stood still in the shower letting the freezing water run over this tense shoulders. Was that it? Just wait it out until she lost interest?

Lost interest? She was interested in him………?

He had been considering this from the angle that they both disliked each other BUT she was obviously physically attracted to him. Or at least now she was. As he was to her. They just didn't seem to like each other much except…….. no even then they didn't like each other. The sex was almost violent, no kissing, no tenderness. It was all bruising now's _(Please God Now )_ instead of considerate soons.

But she made it that way.

Suddenly a brilliant flare of light seemed to go off in his head. Of course. How could he have been so stupid! Genius? Idiot more like. He berated himself.

_She made it that way because she liked it that way!_

It was something so foreign to him it hadn't occurred to him before. He had heard of woman who liked it rough in the bedroom but this was sort of different to 'playing' Good Cop, Bad Cop.

Tim thought back to after they had fucked the first time. She had increased the attention she paid to him but it had all been negative. At the time it had confused and angered him more that she could be that way towards him but if that was the way she _liked it….._

She had wanted him. To be more precise she had wanted him mad enough to simply take her sexually. To be wanted so badly she was _taken_.

He had never taken a woman like that before. He had been close but it had been intense feelings of love and happiness which had pushed him to the edge of abandonment not anger.

The sex was hot, he realized. Very Hot. Smoking hot, thinking about days later while simply pressing down on a stapler kind of hot.

So hot it had twisted him up inside that it could be that intense with someone he didn't care about. But that was the point. That was what she had done, unwittingly in the beginning and then with more intent. She had emotionally overloaded him, turned the key in his back and let him do his thing. And he had fallen for it hook, line and sinker.

Tim shook his head letting the clear drops fly. No wonder Tony though he was innocent and unworldly. Because he was.

But he was ok with that. Tim smiled as he turned off the water and stood for a moment shivering. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It was still twisted, it was still weird but it made a kind of sense now. She didn't love him. He didn't love her. He had to admit to physically anyway enjoying having wild crazy sex with her. And apparently she with him. And that was all there was. And that could be ok too.

Tim brushed himself down with a thick fluffy towel and brought some warmth back into his limbs. Now he understood what she was trying to do when she was being so mean. He smiled as he considered that if she didn't have to torment him to get him to be 'rough' with her she might be nicer to him on a day to day basis?

That was all he was ever after. She didn't have to worship the ground he walked on he just wanted to be able to work with her in a friendly way.

Maybe he could offer to tie her up if that was what did it for her? He had always wanted to try that. He wouldn't be as rough as he had been with her though. He still felt a sense of shame as to how he must have bruised her and left her aching after he had repeatedly slammed into her so wildly. Still if she enjoyed having sex in risky places he did have a fantasy about having sex in the Porsche…………while still in the NCIS parking lot.

Tim smiled and actually looked forward to going to work and seeing her. Perhaps they could have their discussion in the empty storeroom?

He was driving her mad. She couldn't _believe_ Mr Boy Scout had bent her over up against the wall in the _elevator_ and had taken her like that. It had been so exciting. He had been wild, forceful and so hard! Oh god she had never had a man take her and make her feel so free, so desired. He had wanted her so much he had forgotten about protocol, about work about all the rules against what they were doing.

She had hoped of course after the last time for some sort of repeat performance but had also figured she might have freaked him out completely. Instead he had surprised her again.

She felt like she was constantly wet thinking about him. Every time she saw him she lusted after him so much her mouth went dry. Her nipples were peaked and sensitive, the tips dragging against her shirt. Just the sight of the elevator, or his desk (Oh god what she wanted to do under there!) or walking past a closed door she wondered.

She wanted to feel his head between her thighs and feel him taste her with his warm tongue, his hot soft pouty lips all over hers. To run her hands through his fine silky hair as she closed her thighs around his head and hold him tight as she thrashed in abandon. Keening her release as his silky long fingered hands bruised her breasts.

Oh God she wanted him to pin her wrists high and hard above her head in interrogation, tear her shirt open, buttons flying and take her there on the table. Him standing above her almost fully dressed, his hand bruisingly tight around her ankle forcing her leg straight back up above his head as he drove into her. Her other leg spread wide, bent at the knee and pinned to the table. Her breath hitched as she imagined holding onto the edge of the table she had seen a hundred times in shuddering desperation. The light gleaming off the one way glass as she wondered if anyone was on the other side watching her as she orgasmed and cried out, shaking with need.

He was one of the few people in the building who could alter the security cameras if required. He could make her a copy so she could watch it when she was at home alone. Watch it with her fingers high up inside herself. Watch him lose all restraint, rip off her clothes and bury himself inside her.

Oh God she was so horny right now, so sensitive all he would need to do was brush past her and ignore her and she thought she might come.

She turned. There he was. He smiled at her. "Do you think we could have a talk later?' His eyes ran down her frame before returning to look down at her.

Her wild fantasy withered and died at his kind curious eyes looking into her own.

He wanted her. He _wanted _her. She didn't want him wanting her. She wanted him to hate her. To take her and hate himself for it afterwards. She sighed as she realized he was probably going to ask her to dinner. He probably thought they were _dating_ now. She wasn't sure what had changed but he seemed to have reverted back to his natural passive friendly polite state.

She didn't want polite sex. She didn't want friendly sex. She wanted to be fucked!

The long months stretched ahead of her. Working quietly side by side with Timothy McGee and yet knowing what he was capable of doing to her if only he would just let himself go.

Perhaps she should consider that transfer to Homeland Security?

God she hated him.


End file.
